This is Fact not Fiction
by Plinkoid
Summary: The memories I can't recall, the feelings I can't explain and the look in your eyes.  I want to change all those things.  And I will.  K2
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_I don't remember dreaming last night,_

_But it must have been sad._

_When I woke up my pillow was soaked with tears._

My name is Kyle Broflovski. Although I often wind up playing a part in abnormal situations and adventures, I strongly believe that I live a normal life.

I mean it. Or at the least… A happy life.

I have a loving family, set morals in my life, a stable education and most of all great friends.

I'm not bored, I'm not depressed, I may be a little lovesick, but that is completely unrelated to my current situation.

Situation: something is terribly wrong.

Something is wrong with _me_. And I don't know what. I can't even describe the feeling. All I know is the dull ringing in my ears when I wake up and the realization that my eyes are red from crying. I don't remember when it started, but I've recently come to the conclusion that it was my brain attempting to send me a message and that it was time that I decipher it.

Obviously when I started noticing, I thought I was depressed or at least sad. But I know sadness, the gut-wrenching feeling I get when I look into his strained eyes…

I know sadness, I know people who have a reason to be sad. I'm not sad and I shouldn't be anyway.

It wasn't pain, it was more like emptiness. And so every day when I woke up, the colour was drained out of my life and I was left with the feeling that my life was empty. But then I'd make my way downstairs and be greeted by an exhausted looking Ike and my lively mother and I just knew my life was highly colourful.

And upon arriving at the bus station I would find the best friend I could ever ask for and another who made my life a constant adventure. And finally the boy I was in love with would arrive and I knew that my life was filled with amazing people.

It certainly wasn't empty.

Alright, you may be thinking this is how I am dealing with my homosexuality, but there's nothing to deal with. The fact is that Judaism only condemns homosexual _intercourse_ and honestly I don't intend on acting on my feelings. Therefore I see no problem with the way I feel. I am content with loving him and have decided that I would do everything possible to make him happy again.

Because Kenny hadn't shown sincere happiness in a long time now and although everyone still saw him as the playful kid he once was, I had seen the change.

But it's not getting me down either, the rare glimpses of his smiling eyes or his honest laughter made me happy beyond belief. Infiltrating happiness back into his life had been my mission for a few years now and it really wasn't a problem.

Deep down, I knew what it was, but it made no sense. Part of me was gone, something was missing. It felt as if someone had taken a piece of my heart out and I was rendered helpless. It had been locked away and surely those dreams I could not remember were the key to opening it.

So that is why I, Kyle Broflovski, have decided upon beginning my junior year of high school that I would recollect these dreams and finally be able to grasp that shard of my heart.

I truly had no idea it would be so exhausting.

_There it was again,_

_I fidgeted slightly as I stared at it._

_I turned and walked away from the staircase._

For two weeks now I had been going to bed at 10 pm sharp and slowly waking up at 7 am. I had kept a dream diary on my bed stand in case I woke up in the middle of the night.

Every night I chanted my mantra: "I will remember my dream, I will remember…" and then cleared my head before it hit my pillow.

Every morning I'd open the dream diary with little hope in case I had written something.

I had decided to change my habits little by little, starting by the most common tips to improve my dream recall.

It seemed to have little effect, although I made absolutely sure to apply them as efficiently as possible…

Although… The worst mornings, the ones where I felt the worst, were also the ones when I couldn't recall how I had gotten to bed the previous day. Those were the ones where I woke up with my cheeks still wet with tears. I had never thought doing so little would solve it, but there was no way I would hire a psychoanalyst or anything of the sort, unless it came down to it. It would definitely be my last resort,

This morning had been the worst. I cradled my head in my hands and decided to ignore the breakfast in front of me. Ike shrugged it off thinking I just wasn't a morning person, like him. The truth was I could remember a distant past where I had been much more cheerful in the mornings… I sighed, picking up my things and sliding my boots on, I would see my friends any minute now and things would seem brighter.

The sky was cloudy today, seeming to portray my inner turmoil. At the sight of Stan and Cartman I sped up significantly, hoping to find some solace in them.

Finally arriving to the bus stop I let out a long sigh.

"What crawled up your vagina and died Jew?" drawled out Cartman in a bored tone.

"Shut up fat ass", I replied with less vigour than usual.

The two of them seemed to freeze up at my lack of fire. Stan blinked slowly and turned to me.

"Whoa dude, what's up?" he inquired unsurely.

I clenched and unclenched my fists wondering if I should I ask what I had wanted to ask for the past week.

"What are your dreams like?"

The silence seemed to grow heavier as they tried to grasp the meaning of my words.

I sighed while attempting to elaborate, "At night, what do you dream of?"

There was a unanimous "Oh!" of understanding.

Stan closed his eyes thoughtfully, obviously wanting to help me even though he didn't understand the importance of his answer.

"There was this turtle assassin in my dream and I-", he was suddenly cut off by Cartman's laughter.

"That is so gay Stan! I had the best dream, I had assembled hundreds to join my neo-Nazi mo-"

It was my turn to cut him off, "Alright, shut up Cartman", I said rolling my eyes.

Obviously, dream recollection didn't seem to be an issue for anyone in my group of close friends. I was suddenly dragged out of my thoughts by a muffled voice behind me.

"Don't worry if there's something weird about your dreams. Every fucking thing they say about dreaming is speculation."

I turned around with the biggest grin in the world; there he was, so small and all dressed in orange. He smiled back warily probably questioning my insanity over my mood swings.

"Well said Kenny," Stan finally added, "Is that what this is about Kyle, are you having dream troubles?"

Before I had to come up with an answer the school bus pulled off and everyone shifted towards the bus while adjusting their backpacks.

Kenny leaned closer to me and I felt the colour drain out of my cheeks. No one else seemed to notice it, but it haunted me. Especially from up close, the heavy look in his eyes seemed to strangle my heart.

"Seriously, don't fret over it. I can't even go down a fucking set of stairs in my dreams," he whispered into my ear then pulled back with a playful grin and turned around towards the bus and promptly climbed in.

I stood there for a few moments, wiping at my eyes. Tears had escaped, I always felt at edge when it was just him and me talking, we never seemed to be alone and whenever we were my system seemed to go into overdrive. I inhaled air as sharply as I could, recalling his last words.

He had seen right through me. He had been able to find the worry Stan and Cartman had desperately tried to identify and he had attempted to comfort me.

But I saw right through him as well. The way he had said it was so off-settling. He couldn't go down stairs and it in fact was a big deal to him. I lifted my backpack weighing the heavy volumes of dream analysis I had stashed in it. Dream recollection took a backseat in my mind and my need of making Kenny happy took over. I'd find out what it meant and would fix it.

I took a step into the bus and directed myself towards my usual place next to Stan, but not without glancing at Kenny who was staring dreamily out the window. It was painfully funny how tired he looked despite the fact the day hadn't even begun, as if he had gone through hell last night and hadn't found time to sleep.

But then again you could say the same thing about me; I didn't even remember how I got under the covers last night.

But the importance of my own dreams dimmed in front of Kenny. It didn't matter if my whole heart disappeared piece by piece as long as I could wipe that tired look off his face.

**South Park does not belong to me.**

**This is my first fan fiction and English is not my first language so I would absolutely love some feedback.**

**And yes, you can expect many more chapters!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Last night, I knew everything had changed,_

_That I could never go back to the way things were._

_If only I could remember what happened last night._

I stared dumbly at the poorly drawn diagram in my hands. This was hopeless.

I had rushed back home as soon as school was over in hope of identifying the staircase in Kenny's dream. And this had been the best answer I could find.

At the bottom was Kenny's physical body and on top of the stairs was his spiritual activity. Of course, that made sense he obviously had a hard time finding his body.

"Ugh!"

I balled up the paper and threw it to the other side of my room. Maybe the blonde had been right, dreams meant nothing. But for some unknown reason I felt that what I had written down made sense. But it just, didn't.

Opening yet another book I went back to my own problems, trying to identify what was keeping me from remembering. So far all the reasons I could find just didn't apply to me and thus I had to go through different books in search of different answers.

There it was… Scanning through the list I saw the usual; alcohol, fever, stress… And then my eyes paused. It took a while for the words to register. _Unconscious fear of what the dream holds._

Fear. I was never the kind of kid to fear anything and even now I couldn't think of any, apart from eating a banana.

But my body had definitely reacted upon reading it. I toyed with the hem of my jacket contemplating what I had just found out.

What could my dreams possibly hold that I would be scared of remembering?

Suddenly there was a knock on my door, followed by my brother's entry.

"Phone for you", he announced quickly while handing me said phone and departing. I stared at his retreating form wondering who was calling.

"Hello?"

"Hey," replied the familiar muffled voice "Do you think we could hang out?"

I smiled with mute joy that it was him calling, "What about Stan and Cartman, are they with you?"

It was pretty rare that the group was separated; it was usually you're on your own or we're all there.

"Nah, Stan's with Wendy and Cartman's with Butters probably plotting something again. That's why I called you"

_Oh._ So I had been the last person he called up. I shifted uneasily in my seat. Somehow I had always thought I was the first person he'd come see for anything.

Slightly insulted, I felt less bad for refusing. As I've previously said my mind seems to shut down when we are alone and I won't purposely put myself in that situation.

"I don't know Kenny, it's pretty late…" I hinted with a soft voice.

"Dude, it's still early!" I heard him move around probably checking the time.

He dropped his voice to a whisper and continued, "Kyle, please."

Then I heard a bottle smash in the background and the situation became clear. He was trying to get away from yet another fight.

I answered a little too quickly, "Of course you can come over, I was joking. You can stay the night if you want."

The line went quiet, he knew I heard. And now he's probably thinking I accepted out of pity.

"I would be really happy if you can grace me with your presence," I added smiling into the receiver.

"Alright then! I'll be there in a minute," he announced with renewed enthusiasm.

I sat back in my chair, staring out the window. I couldn't seem to wipe that stupid grin off my face. Being in love sucks. My heart seems to swell just at the mere mention of his name.

I got up and started hiding all my books. I didn't really want him to know this was taking over my life. By the time I had put away all of my books, he was already at my door.

My breathing stopped at the sight of his smiling eyes, the only feature visible beneath his hood and I froze next to the closet I had previously stuffed the volumes into.

His grin seemed to widen at this, "What were you up to Kyle?"

At my lack of response he glanced around my room trying to find something that was new or out of place.

"Oh! Are you keeping a diary now?" he announced proudly at his success at finding that one different thing.

I was still frozen as my eyes connected quickly with the dream journal.

"No," I slurred with my uncooperative voice.

I was expecting a snazzy response, but his face seemed to darken as he processed what he had just said.

"You're keeping a diary now," he repeated with a new found seriousness.

His solid stance broke me out of my trance and I swiftly walked up to the bedside table and threw him the journal.

"No dude, look through it it's just an empty notebook."

He didn't seem to question what I was saying as he withheld my stare.

"Maybe you should consider keeping a diary."

I let out a dry laugh as if I thought he was making fun of me, but I had picked up the deathly serious tone of his words.

"Okay, whatever let's play some videogames!" he walked up to my game console and turned around installing a game. I faced his back trying to picture the grim look he surely had.

I wanted to understand what was troubling him, I needed to. But instead I loudly agreed with him and picked up my controller. I pushed everything in the back of my mind and decided to really just hang out with him, because surely he needed to be distracted.

_That barrier between me and everyone else is always there,_

_I wish I could break through it._

_Instead I add a physical barrier and pull my hood up._

The sun was ridiculously high in the sky. It was the perfect day for a snowball fight. And so during our lunch break all four of us decided to head to our favourite spot, where the snow was deepest and whitest.

I glanced at their laughing forms and smiled blissfully. This morning hadn't been bad and everything seemed on the upside.

We had arrived and Cartman started bellowing the rules, adding new ones here and there. As per usual there were protests of Cartman's unjust rule changing, but everything seemed to end in agreement.

We were almost ready when I took a good look at them; Stan smiling nostalgically at our usual snow fighting spot, Cartman scanning determinedly the battle field and finally Kenny with a carefully masked expression.

Something snapped.

"Okay you know what. One last rule, no goddamn hoods allowed." I remarked snidely glaring at Kenny.

He seemed taken aback by my aggressive stance, but still replied with the same snide tone.

"Alright, then no goddamn stupid green hat!" he snapped back angrily.

Stan stood shocked at my sudden outburst. This was how I acted with Cartman, not Kenny.

Surprisingly, Cartman came to Kenny's defense, contrary to popular belief he had always been protective of the smaller blonde, "Leave him alone Kahl, attacking Kinny just because he's too poor for a hat!"

My gut seemed to get heavier as I regretted what I had just said. I looked back at Kenny he still had that guarded expression and I remembered why I had said it in the first place.

"I'm sick of you hiding; we're your best friends! We deserve to see your face…" I pouted as I turned around, ashamed of how little control I had over my speech.

"Dude…" Stan muttered behind my back, there was some rustling and I knew I had just ruined the sunny nostalgic day.

But I was pulled out of my self-berating by an angelic voice, "Sorry."

I turned around and saw him, his wispy golden hair and his innocent childish face. He had the most gorgeous face on the planet, but always insisted on keeping it hidden away. It made no sense.

There was a pause and then everyone broadened their smile. Everyone could feel the extreme trust in Kenny's gesture and it made up for the quick spat we just had.

"If I die with my hood off, it'll be entirely your fault," he joked dismissively.

Stan and Cartman laughed it off as well, but an alarm rang in the back of my mind.

I laughed uneasily, but the ringing got louder, the answer was there just out of reach.

The snowball fight started, but I was still distracted with what was on the tip of my tongue. What was it? What was I missing…?

I heard a distant shout, "Kenny watch out!"

I heard the car spinning on the icy road and the rest was blanked out.

**I still don't own South Park.**

**And yes it will get less depressing :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Am I the only one fighting my subconscious?_

_Aren't you going through the same thing?_

_Surely you would be less lonely if I could get around this obstacle._

Last period of the day. Chemistry Class.

I glanced at my finished work and then up to the clock. Twenty minutes left.

I was unusually gifted at completing school work. I rarely used up all the time given to finish work and by rarely I mean never. On a normal day I would have rested my head against the desk or completed work for other classes or doodled or…

Today however I was exceptionally unhappy to have nothing left to do. The school work had been a welcomed distraction from my thoughts.

This morning I had woken up and instead of discovering my dried out tears, I had just continued sobbing. Maybe all the time I was spending trying to identify what was happening actually had improved the situation… Instead of wondering what could have happened, I had cried for almost half an hour.

This time I knew something horrible had happened. I just didn't know what it was.

I summoned all my energy and drowsily made my way to the bus stop, I barely made it in time, everyone else had already embarked. And suddenly as I scanned the bus seats, my despair had disappeared. What comfort were my old school mates? I honestly have no idea, but the sorrow and grief I had experienced that morning flew away.

My hands were shaking; I took a steadying breath and closed my eyes. The more I thought about it the more my uneasiness grew.

I had recently pinned my subconscious down as the foe, the one to beat to get my memories. However, I now realize that it is part of me. Perhaps there is a reason I can't reach those grieving thoughts. As a matter of fact, experiencing them this morning had almost destroyed me.

And I hadn't even known what I was grieving.

I wrung my hands wishing desperately for a distraction. I looked up from my seat at the back of the class and noticed someone who was successfully distracting himself.

Chin in hand he was staring out the window, honestly I don't know why the teachers let him sit there since his eyes were always glued to the exterior world.

I easily guessed the slight frown his pink lips were curved into and the way his golden eyebrows furrowed together. I didn't need to guess the analytic and thoughtful look in his eyes, because it was as clear as daylight.

He was_ always_ looking outside. And his look read _I'm peeking into a world in which I do not belong._ I vaguely recalled the diagram I had drawn two days ago. Unable to reach his physical body… Perhaps he truly did feel disconnected from reality.

'_And I can't reach my subconscious body'_, I thought glumly.

The drawing resurfaced in my mind, I had drawn Kenny at the top of the staircase. I mentally added myself at the bottom.

'_I'll reach you soon enough!' _

I composed myself, straightened my spine and rested my hands flat against the desk. I was determined to remember and wouldn't back down. I wanted to be up there with him, I needed to eliminate the distance between us. This whole time he had been lonely and I…

The final bell of the day rang and I rose up with it. Making my way towards his desk I saw him looking up surprisingly and saw the panic fill his eyes. He had probably forgotten to even start his work. He seemed to hesitate between leaving and completing his work. I finally reached him and put my hand on his shoulder.

I felt him jump up in surprise under my hand. I offered him my most honest smile and spoke quietly, "If you want, I can help you finish it."

For a moment I thought he would refuse as he turned towards the front of the class, but he was in fact lowering his hood. He turned back sharply and gave me an even bigger smile.

"Thanks Kyle!"

I looked into his joyful sapphire eyes with true glee. When I had him this close to me, it was hard to imagine that sorrow could possibly exist in my life as long as he was part of it.

_You had noticed hadn't you?_

_Why aren't you fed up with the distance in my eyes?_

_I didn't want my loneliness to reach you._

"For the hundredth time, yes that is the most accepted theory," Stan growled through his teeth.

I was lying on my bed facing the ceiling and gnawing at my pencil.

"The contents of your dreams are a recollection your past week's events…" I repeated to myself.

Stan was next to me lying on his stomach while browsing the internet on my laptop and I could tell he was getting pissed.

"Listen Kyle, you're my best friend… But this is getting ridiculous. You've been obsessing over this whole dream thing for a month now," he muttered, genuine concern lacing through his voice.

I sat up, slightly on edge. I looked over my shoulder finding Stan looking right back at me. I had finally given in and asked him for help last week, the day after I had woken up in tears. The first day he had seemed to humour me and tried to help as best as he could, but worry had slowly spread through him and he was now looking at me as if I had lost my mind.

"You're right. Let's go get the other two and go watch a movie," I tried my best to say it through unclenched teeth and with a smile.

He looked back at me with uncertain eyes. Maybe I wasn't as convincing as I had previously thought. The truth was I could feel the progress I was making and I was sure I was close to unveiling the truth. I didn't need Stan to tattle on me and my obsession. I would just have to push him back out of this and pretend I was over it.

"Come on," I said anxiously, picking up my jacket. He nodded back, a small smile gracing his lips and followed me out of the house, pulling out his cell phone so he could contact Cartman and Kenny.

At last we had all met up at the movie theatre and I seemed to be in the clear. Distracting Stan wound up being easier than I had thought. I smiled warmly knowing that I could finish what I had begun.

Everyone gathered around the ticket booth. Until I felt someone tug at the hem of my jacket. I turned around and looked down at my favourite blonde in the entire world.

"How much is the movie?" he asked me in a low muffled voice.

I answered and he seemed to be disappointed.

I asked him what was wrong and he told me he couldn't afford it, honestly it wasn't much of a surprise.

"Listen, I'll pay for you!" I assured him trying to quell his worries.

But it was to no avail. Cartman had heard and rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you sick of mooching off of everyone poor boy?"

Stan averted his eyes and I let my mouth hang open. Someone should have defended him, but no one did. I should have said something, but I didn't. He nodded solemnly as if he understood perfectly what was happening. He sustained Cartman's glare and answered him truthfully.

"Yeah, I kind of am."

There was so much tension… It shouldn't have been this tense, these were the kind of remarks Kenny would have usually just answered with a quick 'Fuck you'. Today he hadn't. And we were all left standing speechless wondering if we had crossed the line.

"It's fine you guys, I'll head home I'm way too tired anyway," he explained after a pause.

"Are you sure?" inquired Stan kindly.

Kenny just smiled back and waved a quick goodbye.

Cartman and Stan automatically turned to each other and started arguing over which movie we would be seeing.

I on the other hand just stared with uncertainty at the spot where Kenny stood. I felt apprehension rise in my gut. The feeling of déjà-vu flooded my senses as I saw him pull down his hood and reach into his pocket. He pulled out the uncharacteristically familiar metallic object, eyes downcast and a small peaceful smile on his lips.

I should have said something. I should have _done_ something. But all I could do was open my eyes even wider and unconsciously grip myself to the moment and the feeling.

"Goodbye you guys," he announced eerily.

We all turned to him in time to see him shoot himself.

I barely registered Stan's voice exclaiming a shocked 'Oh my god!' or even my own aggravated voice as I shouted out "You bastard!"

I had no idea what had just happened.

**I don't own South Park.**

**:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_I asked myself why you hadn't reached out for me._

_Deep down, I'm sure you did._

_I wish you had reached me earlier._

The ringing in my ears was back. I attempted to sit up but only fell back on the mattress. My head weighed a ton, I must have cried a lot again. I opened my eyes warily, ready to greet the monochrome world my room had most likely turned into. Surely enough, the lack of colour was imminent.

I lazily threw my arm over my eyes motivating myself by thoughts of my family and friends who were all waiting for me to come out of my gloom. I finally stood up on shaky legs and proceeded to clothe myself. Blinking as I pulled my arms into my jacket I told myself that soon enough the colours would be back and I'd be wearing the same orange as Kenny.

I was about to leave the room when I remembered my usual routine. I backtracked into my room and made my way to my bedside table. I picked it up unsteadily vaguely recalling having written something in it. My breath hitched as I considered the possibility that it withheld an answer.

I flipped it open staring at the first page. There in the center was written one line in a perfect neat print. Had it not been for the tear stains blurring the perfectly formed letters it could have practically been written by a machine.

_Kenny is dead._

Did I really dream of…? No. No, that wasn't a dream. I had written it down before passing out on my bed. I had made my way back home in a state of shock and when Kenny's suicide caught up with my mind I had written it down in the dream diary. I traced the words with my finger; they were supposed to be a reminder… _Get your priorities right._

I had been so caught up with this whole thing that thoughts of Kenny being suicidal hadn't ever even crossed my mind. I had been so blind now he was…

I fell to my knees, hung my head and threw up on the cool carpet. I closed my eyes as the awful stench filled my nostrils. Feeling a wave of nausea hit my body I shuddered with anxiety. What was the point? Images of Stan and Cartman flashed through my mind. They were going through the same thing, I had to go see them and, and, and…

I got back up and descended the stairs unevenly. I spotted my mother in the kitchen trying to spread her energy to a sleepy Ike. But the colour didn't return to the world. Everything stayed in faded hues of white and black. Too aggravated to eat, I avoided the kitchen and left the house without a word.

Things like walking and breathing and keeping my heartbeat steady, the things that usually were effortless, were proving to be very difficult. Questions and regrets jumbled into my sore head and I was unable to form a coherent thought. None but one.

_Kenny is dead._

There was still so much I wanted to know about him, so much left for him to experience, so many things I wanted to do with him.

'_I never even kissed him'_, I thought bitterly. All the bullshit I had told myself before that I was content with just observing him came rushing back to me. None of it was true. I wanted to kiss him, hold him, and build a life with him. _'And now he's gone.'_

No matter what, I was too late now.

Arriving at the bus stop I halted my steps, but kept my gaze glued to the frozen sidewalk.

"Dude, is arriving late a new habit of yours?" asked Stan in a cheeky voice.

How could he even joke at such a time? I was furious, but at the same time I had no energy to manifest that anger.

"Oi Jew boy! You've been acting really off recently…"

It was odd to hear Cartman concerned, Kenny's death surely had some effect on him, although he had been the most kept together last night. I bit harshly at the inside of my cheeks as I felt the tears escape my eyes and make their way down my face. Hoping my face was shadowed enough that neither of them would notice I answered with a non-committal grunt, because it was all I could muster without my voice breaking.

They must have noticed anyway because no one said anything. I had been naïve to think they were going through the same thing; obviously grief was different for everyone. I had been stupid to think that my presence would be of some comfort to them when I was obviously torn to pieces.

"Kyle…?" Stan asked with that ever-present doubt in his voice.

Someone was stepping towards me. I felt the hands land heavily on my shoulders, but still couldn't look up or for that matter even open my eyes as the tears continued streaming. In the back of my mind I made note that I had probably cried more in the last month than in my entire childhood.

"Kyle do you need a hug?"

I would have recognised the stifled voice anywhere. I opened my eyes and stared at the mass of orange, the colour slowly draining back to the background behind it. I lifted my eyes slightly and met with a pair of azure ones. The almond shape of them and the long blonde eyelashes framing them left no doubt in my mind. He was clearly alive and not thirty centimeters away from me.

He was smiling courageously up to me but worry was still shadowing his features. My throat was thick with emotion as I put my own hands on his tiny ribcage. He was there and I could hold him. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him as close as I could. Feeling his shivering form against mine, there was no doubt that it was him and his cheap hoodie that could never truly keep him warm. I pressed my cheek against his hooded one and breathed in deeply. He didn't smell like death, suicide, worry, fear and all those horrible things I had been dealing with. He smelled like sunny days and boyish innocence and like Kenny. He clung to me as well, probably out of surprise. I didn't know how much time I stayed like that but I wish I could have stayed forever with him in my arms.

I was somewhat aware of Cartman muttering a "Dude, that's gay" and the sheepish smile on Stan's face. As the bus arrived I took a step backwards on my still shaky legs. And I ran off. I ran all the way back home.

_Sure, I had once thought so._

_That I wanted someone to understand my curse._

_But I was content with being part of your group whenever I could._

That had been one week ago. Since then I had transformed my dream journal into a death log. Remembering all of Kenny's deaths proved to be long and painful. I hadn't dared open my mouth all day last Wednesday when I remembered how I had cut through Kenny with a chainsaw that one Halloween night when we were kids.

It followed me wherever I went, the memories would rush back at random moments and not only in my dreams (that I could now vividly remember). I attempted to keep it in more or less of a chronological order. After feeling like I had lost him I had took the stern decision that I would confess my love to him, but first I wanted to really be able to understand. I wanted to share his pain, lift some of it off his shoulders. So I kept this with me and tried to remember the pain he lived through that no one else seemed to remember.

I understood more and more who he was. His character was revealing to be one of a selfless and heroic person.

I had completed the log with some statistics. His self-sacrifices to save one person to the entire world were proportionally much higher than any other of his deaths. But… I frowned as I looked over the graph. He had been committing suicide in an increasing rate, as if out of boredom.

Although I had now decided on a second mission (becoming Kenny's significant other), I was still aware of my first one. There was no way in hell killing himself was making him happy and so I had decided to put an end to it.

So that's why I'm walking with Kenny right now during our lunch break, he had accepted my request to go take a walk with only a little doubt in his eyes.

"This is far enough," I announced loudly.

He took a look around and seemed a little startled that I would stop in such a place; the middle of a pine forest. We were all alone.

"Kyle why are you leading me to such a secluded place?" he asked half playful half fearful.

Was he really scared of me? He was adorable, although... As I said, I had killed him once. I frowned at this.

I took a step closer towards him and leaned my head towards his. I smirked light-heartedly as dread stiffened his entire body.

"K-Kyle…?" he muttered into his hood unsurely.

And then, as quickly as I could, I pulled his gun out of his pocket stepped back and stuffed it into my discarded backpack.

"Hey!" he shot back desperately.

He made a pitiful attempt at grabbing it back from me, but I wouldn't budge.

"Kenneth" I sounded out icily.

He froze at his given name and raised his eyes up to meet mine. I tried to keep my stance as stern as possible even though I felt all my resolve melting away as he pouted while glancing at my backpack.

"Now tell me. What possible purpose could a gun serve to you?"

"Uh. Shooting?" he replied with false innocence.

"You're not getting this back," I enunciated it clearly and sharply.

He made another attempt at grabbing my bag but I just raised it up above my head. He continued by whining a bunch of pleas to get it back, but I wouldn't budge.

He was mad for the rest of the day. He confronted me as I headed home. And I answered back with the mere truth.

"I just want you to be happy."

That was the last time he asked for the gun back. I just hope he doesn't have another one stashed in his room somewhere.

**Don't own South Park.**

**Thank you very much for the reviews, they made me very happy :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Sometimes you have to stray away from the plan._

_Those careful preparations and exact calculations,_

_All pale next to you._

October had come and gone. In the midst of it I had settled into a comfortable pattern. My journal had followed me the whole time and I had been sucked into past memories and constant regrets. Slowly but surely I had been changing things for Kenny, leaving subtle hints here and there that I was there for him. I was continually planning ahead and preparing my words with great care. Not wanting to ruin his chances at him being happy or mine; I had decided that time was not an issue and that everything should go according to plan.

The term unexpected had lost all sense to me. My day to day life was literally as adventurous as me walking on egg shells.

What I really wanted was to walk up to him, declare my undying love, kiss him and watch him smile for the rest of my life.

But I was a coward. Sulking in self-doubt and questioning I had receded into silent anticipation and endless contemplation.

It wasn't all that bad. I had the pleasure of seeing him die less and less; I was always on the sidelines doing all my possible to keep death at bay. All the graphs I had been dragged into making concerning his deaths were proof of it. The flashbacks also lessened and I felt assured that soon enough I would be aware of all the ends he met.

I was terrified. As soon as the journal would be complete, I would have no more reason to postpone all my plans. The feeling was foreign, but eventually I pinned it down as fear of rejection.

All of it, everything I was doing was in aim of getting close to him. If my over-eagerness just pushed him further away, I wouldn't know how to react.

But this meticulous way of life this past month hadn't escaped my best friends.

That, is how I got into this mess.

All of us shouting louder and louder in a hope of getting heard in the middle of the snow covered field.

"We don't even know who you are anymore!" accused Stan in a loud booming voice.

I hugged my notebook closer to me, the object that had caused this fight. Apparently, everyone was against me on this one.

"Honestly, I don't remember the sound of your bitching voice, because you spend more time with that shitty scrap of paper than you do with us!" Cartman continued Stan's rant with no delay.

All three of them were lined up in front of me as if it were an intervention. Frankly, I thought it was ridiculous, especially the location they had chosen. As if the shouting wasn't loud enough the occasional train that would pass through the clearing forced us to raise our voices higher and higher.

Stan was standing determinately with the same fire in his eyes that he usually reserved for anything concerning animal preservation. Cartman was getting so red in the face I actually feared he would suffer a heartache. And Kenny stood by their side, singled out by his distinct shorter height. He hadn't said anything yet, he was always one to shy away from confrontation as a result of his family life, but his stand on the subject seemed clear enough. He was as upset as the other two.

"What do you want from me?" I roared back as I bit down my tears of frustration.

"We want you to drop whatever is in there! I don't know if this is a continuation of last month's obsession but-"

I hadn't hesitated to cut off Stan's desperate shouts with my own, "Well I'm not!"

"Does it really matter more than your friends?" his silent reply was almost out of place in the fight, but predictably it was the one who affected me the most.

I heard the tell-tale roar of an engine further away announcing the arrival of another train. Appearing like a perfect escape route I turned away and leaped over the tracks behind me. Any minute now we would be separated by the train and I could run away. '_Because that's what I always do,'_ I thought ruthlessly.

I turned to face them, still standing meters away from me, and spoke loudly enough to be heard over the roar of the train, "If you can't see how important this is to me, then maybe we aren't friends!"

I was being overly harsh, but this was always how I approached arguments. With big words that weren't supported by my honest feelings.

Feeling the air change at the arrival of the train I turned on my heel so I could run off home. Hopefully my lead start would be enough to avoid them all together. I'd go back to my house, calm down and tomorrow I'd tell them I've abandoned the notebook while keeping it at home.

But before I could get very far he spoke up again, "Kyle, no, wait!"

I wasn't going to stop at that, I did however stop and turn at his cry of agony.

The sight was uncannily gruesome. He had rushed towards in attempt of getting me to stay albeit ignoring the danger of the upcoming train. His right leg had been sliced off by the train's wheels and was now lying in the blood soaked snow, the blood slowly draining out of his face.

He was still reaching towards me with his trembling hand.

It had been my fault. Again. Like that time when we were kids that I had let go of his hand and he had fallen into a vat of lava.

My heart clenched painfully as I rushed towards him. Falling to my knees I pulled his hood away and threaded my fingers through his soft hair while whispering words of comfort. It must have been in vain, afterall the train was still passing and the roar was deafening, but I felt the need to.

He smiled sweetly as he mouthed my name and then he did the unexpected. Pushing my hat off so he could take fistfuls of my hair, he pulled me forward so that he could press his lips lovingly to mine. It was our first kiss. Bittersweet and chaste, a farewell kiss. It was dramatically romantic and I had never felt as close to him as I did in that instant. I almost forgot our surrounding and the situation, but eventually I pulled back and stared at him with alarmed eyes. He would surely die of blood loss in the next minutes. As a matter of fact he should already been passed out. I looked worriedly into his eyes searching for some hope of survival.

He must have misread my look because with the last bit of energy he could muster he smiled gravely and whispered seven last words "Don't worry, by tomorrow you'll have forgotten."

I wanted to answer, but all I could do was shake my head and pull his mutilated body to mine. The train had finally finished passing and Stan and Cartman made their way to where we were crouched in the snow.

"Oh… My god… They killed Kenny!" Stan exclaimed with genuine shock and terror.

Out of unfamiliar habit I turned towards the departing train and squeezed a faint "You bastards!" out of my clenched teeth.

I held his cold body for a few more minutes with new found resolve. He obviously wanted to kiss me too. I smiled into his unmoving shoulder.

_No matter how little hope was left._

_I always held on to the dream that,_

_You could love me the way I loved you._

Maybe it was from not knowing anything concerning my dreams for years on end, but I could always tell when I was awake.

I was definitely asleep. I didn't know why I wasn't seeing replays of his past deaths or even the one that had happened only mere hours ago after we shared our first kiss.

I clenched my fists as I felt excitement bubble in my body. He had kissed me. And I loved him even more.

I scanned my surroundings with unease. The only dreams I had experienced were recollections from the past, this was new. With heart-warming joy I told myself I must have already remembered all the memories I had lost. Everything seemed to be made out of grey marble and shined with absolute spotlessness. It was so sparkling clean I could make out my reflection on the cold floor. My eyes squinted as I saw a younger version of myself. I pulled my gloved hands to my face and noticed the smallness and chubbiness they had once held. I was probably back to when I was around eight or nine. I turned on spot trying to fish this memory out of my head, but it was no use. I had never been here. I walked for a while in what seemed to be a maze, the walls, the ceiling, the floor were all made out of the same material and seemed to go on endlessly.

I was lost. I knew it was just a dream, but I was legitimately upset at the fact that I didn't know where I was heading.

Unexpectedly, a sob echoed through the station-like place. It was shortly followed by more anguished cries. Feeling genuine empathy course through my veins I followed the tear-laden voice through the maze and was met with large stairs that seemed to go very far up. I looked up and saw blinding white light, there was no doubt that the tears were coming from upstairs.

Bravely, I started to escalade the staircase. It was a long task and my eight years old body was exhausted halfway to the top. I wiped the sweat off my brow as I continued to ascend the tall steps. They were so high I had to practically lunge to get to the next one. I wanted to shout out words of comfort, assure whoever was crying that help was coming, but I couldn't. I was held back by my uncertainty; I did not know who it was. If it turned out to be a monster I could always turn back at the sight of it, if I did not alarm it of my arrival.

However, the cries were sincerely upset and they pulled at my heartstrings. I sped up as much as I could and saw the small boy ten steps before I reached him.

Dressed in white, he was sitting on the top stair; head held in his palms, elbows resting on his knees. Blonde hair almost as white as what he was wearing in the blearing light. My steps got quieter in fear of scaring off the angelic figure.

Reaching the last step I slumped next to him and started heaving in attempt to catch my breath.

Shyly the other boy lifted his head up to sneak a peek at me. When he caught my eye he averted to his previous position flushing slightly. The blue eyes had been a dead give-away to his identity. I was sitting next to eight years old Kenny McCormick.

I pressed my hand to his head gently, petting it slightly, trying tranquilly to calm the other boy's sobs.

Feeling my silent question, he stifled an answer into his wet palms, quite reminiscent of how it sounded beneath his usual hood, "I'm stuck up here. Everyone is down there."

I looked warily back down, not wanting to descend the stairs as I was already weak from the ascent. I tried to answer without breathing too heavily; I could have really used a drink of water…

"I couldn't find anyone else while _I_ was down there."

He met my eyes a second time, still blushing, but not shying away this time. It looked as if he had cried a very long time and in his eyes I read the loss I had felt in the maze that resided at the bottom of this staircase.

"I want to be down there."

I locked gazes with him and smiled tenderly, silently ushering him to go on.

"You're always down there. I want to be with you," he admitted softly.

I took his smaller hand and breathed in deeply.

"Then let's go."

He yelped as I pulled him onto my shoulders and got back up. Of course being the underfed kid that he was, I barely felt a difference in weight. He gripped my shoulders with fear and I grabbed his knees in reassurance.

Slowly, step by step, I made my way back downstairs, summoning unknown energy from my very core. I watched as the wide space framed with ancient marble came into view. His grip kept on tightening until he spoke what was on his mind.

"I'm scared."

"It's alright, I'm here with you."

**I do not own South Park.**

**Thank you very much for all the reviews, I am very honoured!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_I was afraid life would slip out of my hands,_

_So I held on to you._

_Because you were my home away from home._

My eyes flew open. '_Hello ceiling'_

I blinked dumbly as I bent my fingers one by one. Usually when I came back from one of my deaths the motion would be painful and awkward.

I rolled around on the used and inexpensive mattress and was surprised to feel coordinated movement. It always took so long to get back in sync with my body. But today, I felt good. I felt as if I could run laps without a problem.

There must have been something different… How had I died again? I didn't typically do much thinking upon waking up. I…

_Oh. _I had kissed Kyle.

Self-consciousness flooded my senses as I hugged my hoodie tighter to myself. And then… And then in my dream he had helped me down. I reached my hand up to my cheek realizing how much I was flushing.

'_Calm down McCormick!' _I pounded at my head with my fists while trying to get a grip on myself. Kyle wouldn't remember the kiss and the rest had only been a dream; everything is normal. Nothing has changed.

Rolling around again I stuffed my face into the worn pillow. _What was wrong with me?_

I'd take the feeling of awkwardness in the morning over thinking things through any day. I had been so stupid, kissing Kyle. Thank god I had done it at a time that he would forget about… The look on his face had said it all. Of course, what had I been expecting? Just because he's been so thoughtful recently doesn't mean he's a god damn lovesick fag like I am!

Sensing the lack of oxygen in my lungs from keeping my head in the pillow for too long, I flipped onto my back once more before I died again.

How long had I felt like this? Too long.

I think it's my mom's fault.

I had always loved my mom. As a kid, I was always silently rooting for her in her fights against my dad. My childish mind had interpreted the domestic violence as good versus evil. And of course my mom was the embodiment of everything good and righteous in this world.

She was the only person who knew about… My condition. She didn't understand it nor did she try to, but she was still there. She had been there a lot. She had even gone to Rumania with me that one time, just so I could sing.

I had always loved my mom. And I had always been much too attached to my home. It had been and still was infested with rats, non-isolated, dirty and cold, but it had never failed at making me feel safe.

When I was younger, I was terrified of death. That guy who said you had to face your fear to defeat it; well he's a god damn idiot. Constantly being put through my worst fear, the only comfort I found was in the feeling of safety.

Leaving my home for school had been the most nerve-wrecking experience in my young life. Desperately I had tried to find a familiar element, it had been no use. The warm colours, the proper heating, the smiling faces had all been foreign to me. Used to violence and the stench of alcohol, I had been so intimidated by the over friendliness of the staff of adults and the overpowering scent of soap.

Had it not been for Cartman and Kyle, I would probably have had a burn-out. Yes, at the tender age of six.

It had been the name-calling and shouting that had led me to their little group. The teachers had tried to break them up, in vain. Stan stood there sporting a 'I'm shocked, what should I do?' look, quite similar to my older brother. Cartman had been purposely provoking Kyle with half-witted insults, quite reminiscent to my father's. And Kyle had stood his ground with fiery determination. Just like my mom did at home. He was a combative redhead, exactly like my mother. That was mainly what had convinced me to follow his group shyly until I could become part of it.

Previously, I had been lead to believe that my relationship with my mother was the closest I'd ever be to someone else. Having someone who acknowledges my deaths but didn't bother investigating them had already seemed like such a gift. Somewhere along the road I had decided that I wanted to be close like that with Kyle. Or even closer.

I had continued wearing orange throughout the years because he did as well, in hope that something as small would strengthen our bond. I purposely put myself in deathly situations wishing that maybe one day I would have died enough for him to notice. I tried my hardest to stay close to him.

Now, I don't know when it changed from a 'you remind me of my mom' love to a 'I wish I could have hot make out sessions with you' love but it must have been when my hormones and common sense kicked in.

One thing was sure though, Kyle had been changing these past two months and I wanted in on what was going on. Yesterday I still thought there could be a chance in one million that he somewhat reciprocated my feelings, but now I know better.

Dismissing my contemplative state, I exited my home. I still had that bad aftertaste in my mouth whenever I left the house as if warning me of danger, but the thought of my pseudo-family at school never failed at calming me.

Arriving last, as it should always be (whenever Kyle arrived last something out of the ordinary seemed to occur), I shot out a joyous "Hey you guys!"

The familiar responses of Stan and Cartman always cheered me up. Even though they might not remember that I suffered a brutal death yesterday, they at least welcomed me back as if I would always be wanted in the group. Frowning slightly at the missing third greeting I had a fleeting thought that maybe Kyle was late again. But no, he was there behind Stan.

Except… I furrowed my eyebrows at this; he wasn't even recognizing my arrival. Hands in his pockets and eyes downcast he seemed resolved at not noticing me. I was about to shout out at him, but then an alarm rung in my head. _He doesn't want to look at me because I kissed him!_

Wait, no. He doesn't, there must be a logical explanation. I crouched down and started gathering some snow while thinking of the kiss. It felt like I had taken advantage of him, of course that wasn't it I was merely testing if he wanted to be with me without ruining our friendship… Right? I still felt horrible.

Compressing the snow into a solid sphere, I aimed it at him and threw with all my might.

That ought to do it. I smirked devilishly as he looked up with scorching anger.

"That's it fat ass! I told you to leave me alone!" before he had time to gather snow to fight back Cartman's whiny voice stopped him.

"What? I always get blamed for everything! It was Kinny!"

Stan snickered jokingly as if to back him up.

Stunned and slightly flushed from getting angry so fast, he turned to me with wide eyes.

I waved my hand as if to say 'Hi, I'm here', but he looked away before he had a chance to see it.

The feeling of guilt didn't recede.

_You've always known how to take me by surprise,_

_And take the words right out of my mouth._

_I wish you could take them out of my heart._

This has been going on long enough.

He had cornered me behind the school right as the bell rang. When I had told him we should be getting back to class, I had been shocked with his blatant indifference on the subject.

I leaned back on the bricked wall as I observed him.

His worried posture was the perfect portrayal of the way he had been acting all week. Nervous, anxious, shy, stubborn and hesitant. Had it been any other week I would have thought he looked adorable and would have teased him a bit, but I was turning into a paranoid mess. Surely, his recent behaviour was caused by me kissing him. Maybe he remembered the kiss, just not me dying. Maybe, possibly, after all I didn't know how a normal person's memories are usually affected after my accidents. How could I have been so easygoing about it? I should have never done it. Now he was acting like this. Oh god, oh god, oh god…

I was only slightly aware that I was on the edge of hyperventilating, I'm sure Tweek would have had a better reaction than the one I was currently having.

Kyle drew a breath as if he was about to start talking, but went back to silence for the eighth time. Minutes must have passed already. Certainly he was about to confront me about the whole situation, but was too shy to start.

So I drew in my breath as well, deciding I would right my wrongs and lowered my hood. This way he would know I was being honest, because yes I knew my hiding my face bothered him a lot and I was determined at making this as easy on him as possible.

He must have misinterpreted my gesture as an impatient one because he finally raised his voice, "Listen Kenny-"

But I wasn't having any of that; I cut him off abruptly "I love you."

Yeah, that shut him up. Bravely I stood my ground and looked at him dead in the eyes. Saying he was stunned might have been an understatement.

So I went on, "Not like the 'let's partner up for school projects' way, but full-blown 'I want your babies' love. Although I know I can't."

I deadpanned it, as if it weren't actually verbal diarrhoea, but then again I was usually a boy of little words.

"And I want to be by your side forever, even though that sounds terribly gay. Yes, I am aware that I _am gay_, but that-"

The words seemed to stop spilling out of my mouth as he took a step towards me. He looked positively dangerous, with a murderous glint in his eyes. I backed away, but only managed to bang my head against the solid wall behind me. Well, I'm trapped.

He stopped when he couldn't step any closer and spoke with a low angered growl, "You always do this…"

And with surprising gentleness he forced my chin upwards so that our eyes could meet. I was speechless. I had thought he would get even more flustered but definitely not violent.

My breath piqued as he leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes feeling my heart rate pick up. Maybe I could die of heartache before he killed me himself.

"You completely ruined my love declaration," he whispered it, but he was so close that it was as if he had spoken directly into my ear.

Before I even had time to register the words he had me pinned against the school wall and was ravaging my lips with his own.

All intelligible thoughts were sapped out of my mind as he pressed his body closer and closer to mine, hands flat against the wall next to my head. I clung onto the front of his jacket as he pushed his tongue in between my lips. I couldn't help moaning embarrassingly loud as he licked the roof of my mouth. Feeling feverish I tried to open my eyes, only to see that he was staring intensely at me. I slid my eyes closed once again; desperately hoping he had been serious and this wasn't the last time he would kiss me… Because it was amazing.

**Still don't own South Park.**

**Thank you for all the reviews!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_I acted as if I had been hanging on to you,_

_Unaware of the fact that it was you_

_Who had kept holding on to me through the worst and darkest times._

I felt as if I were floating. I spent the whole day staring out the window. Not that that was unusual, but things seemed different. I could barely recall what the scenery had looked like yesterday. The dull aura that highlighted the horizon and the bleakness of a world I didn't really fit into had both melted away. All that was left were vibrant hues of a world in which someone cared for me.

'_He doesn't really care about you.'_

The radiating landscape started evaporating as everything that had remained at the back of my mind began to worm its way to the front. No, Kyle he would smile at me with such warmth and when he held me everything seemed to come together. He said he loved me, he cares…

'_No one cares when you die.'_

I leaned my head against the cool panel of glass, decisively ignoring the assigned English essay that lied untouched in front of me. I didn't know that. Maybe they were upset whenever I died. Maybe… Maybe they noticed.

I peeked subtly over my right shoulder at the hardworking redhead in the back of the classroom. He was the incarnation of concentration. I smiled lightly at the way his forest green eyes would go back and forth over his sheet. I tried to paste an upset look onto his face.

No matter what, it didn't seem right. He would probably react angrily at my death. That _is_ how he deals with most issues. Not that I don't find his feistiness incredibly endearing, but deep down… I wanted him to suffer over my death.

'_You're such a terrible person.'_

I glanced back outside. I wanted to hold on to the airy feeling that had been in my gut since yesterday, nonetheless the glow of my new found happiness was fading back to the sombre backdrop I usually pictured.

How could I want the person I truly loved to suffer? Everything about that statement was absolutely wrong, I wanted to hear Kyle's clever laugh and see his flashy smile more so than anything else.

'_What you really want is for your suffering to end, not for his to begin.'_

Maybe that was correct, but still… I rested my chin in my palm while continuing to ignore my school work. Still, he had kissed me yesterday.

Then, all those worries felt far away again.

I kept my walking on clouds pace until the very last second of our school day. As a matter of fact, I had been blissfully oblivious to everyone around me for the whole day.

As I hopped off the bus, I turned right, the direction of my house, still humming sappy romance songs in my head. But before I knew what had happened someone spun me around to face them.

Dumbstruck, I looked into another pair of blue eyes.

"Dude, Kenny, you high or something?" Stan asked grinning with nonchalance.

I was suddenly made aware of my surroundings and my three friends who seemed half worried and half pleased by my behaviour.

"Yuh Kinny, you haven't said anything to anyone all day!" Cartman piped up with a reproaching tone.

I hesitated between being aloof or apologetic for a little more than a second and suddenly felt like a jerk. I had been thinking about Kyle all day, but I hadn't even greeted him or anything.

"Sorry…" I drifted off uncertainly. It appeared that I had lost control on both my emotions and my speech.

Before I could go back to weaving a web of useless thoughts Stan shook me, still maintaining a big smirk on his face, "Don't be dude. We just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong!"

I nodded curtly and got back to walking home. Some part of my brain registered their words of protest, but I was still walking on clouds and couldn't make out the words.

"Kenny!"

I turned around just in time to catch what it was that he was throwing my way. I peered down at the used notebook. Recognising it for the one that I had lost a leg over, I couldn't help but frown.

"I wanted you to have it," he said shyly as if to clarify why he would possibly want to part ways with something he had qualified as _very_ important to him.

Still in my dazed state I made to open it but was rudely cut off by his shout.

"Don't read it here!"

I smiled devilishly at his response. What could possibly be written down?

"Why? Is this a collection of your fantasies starring me?" I winked at him with true cheerfulness.

Stan paled at this as Kyle definitely got redder in the face. Cartman had thankfully already departed somewhere in the midst of the exchange.

"No! I'm leaving now."

He turned sharply and marched off. Oups.

"Very eloquent McCormick!" Stan smiled back at me before turning to catch up with his best friend.

I held the small book preciously and stared at his leaving figure.

I even liked the way he walked, as if he were in the middle of a battlefield. I loved him so much.

_My wish had been to be close to you,_

_But still I held on to the fear that_

_You would shatter were I to touch you._

_Kenny is dead._

As soon as I had closed the door I had slid to the floor, sat myself comfortably and flipped the cover open.

Thank god I was sitting down. If not my knees would have probably gave out. Dread was penetrating me to my very bones. I recalled that one occasion I had told him to keep a diary in hopes that he would note down my death and remember but… The formatting had caught me off guard. Terrifyingly eerie, the line was inked in dead center with what I assumed were dried tears blotching the ink.

As I flipped the pages I did not discover a continuation of some kind of diary but what seemed to be a carefully detailed and great analysis of all my deathly accidents.

I traced the lines with confusion. Noticing the small notes Kyle had put in the margins. 'It was my fault' next to a detailed rendition of what I dubbed quite a gory death. My heart was tearing. Confirming that the last thing I wanted for him was suffering.

I smiled sadly at the last pages. Statistics. To be expected from someone like Kyle. I stared at the pie chart of my causes of death and blushed at the comment beneath. 'So heroic.' I ducked my head at the compliment even though there was no one here to judge my reaction.

Flopping onto my stomach, I kept on reading, taking notice of every detail, noting all the love he had poured into the small journal.

_He did care._

He cared so much. He had wanted to understand my pain; he had gone as deep as he could. It was only when my tears collided with my mouth that I realized I was almost bawling. I was truly overwhelmed with the feelings of care he had directed towards me. He hadn't just shrugged the situation off like my mom had, he understood. I didn't even deserve to breathe the same air he did. He was an _angel_.

I flipped it back to the first page and read it again, again, again and again. When no more sunlight reached my room I closed it and closed my eyes as well.

I wanted to see him. I needed to. After a long pause, I got up, stepped over the body of my unconscious father and made my way outside. Marvelling at the fresh air I took my time to get to his house.

It wasn't difficult climbing up to Kyle's room; we had done it so many times in our childhood.

It was only once I was inside that I understood how late it was. His digital alarm clock read 1:23 am in dull red lights.

Feeling extremely guilty I tiptoed my way over to his large bed. Quite the opposite of my room, his seemed to be too grand for him. You could have fit five of him in that bed.

I leaned over, confirming what didn't need to be confirmed. He was asleep. Locks of red hair were splayed across his pillow. I had always secretly adored his hair, so thick and unruly. While the others made fun of it, I had always gawked at it with admiration. Feeling an air of forbidden I tugged at one of the strands.

Well, I was certainly not leaving now. I wasn't the kind of person who snuck into others' rooms without them ever knowing about it. I would just have to wake him up. Kneeling on the ground next to his bed I leaned over and softly slid my palm from his left temple to his chin. His skin was so warm and soft. Just like him. I smiled cheekily at my mental comment.

After a while of touching his face (because that wasn't creepy; going into people's rooms while they slept so I could touch their face), his eyelids parted slightly as sleepy emerald eyes tried to identify what was going on.

"Kyle," I whispered to him in fear of waking up the rest of the household.

When he saw me, his face light up with the brightest expression I had ever seen. It felt as if my stomach had flipped over.

His smile was so drowsy and innocent, unlike the controlled image he sported during the day. I was _so_ screwed…

"We need to talk…" I added in a hushed tone.

"But it's so late Kenny," he responded in an unnecessarily loud voice as he reached his hand towards me and started petting my head.

I frowned slightly, I had come over to thank him and cry on his lap at how gracious he was. It was supposed to be serious! Childishly I tried to get things to turn the way I wanted them to.

"Actually it's early, so let's talk," I said very softly all the while trying to shoo his hand away from my head.

He giggled at this. _Giggled,_ Kyle Broflovski giggling! My resolve started to dissipate in the face of how affectionate he was being.

"Tomorrow's Saturday… Let's talk then!" he slurred out.

I imagine this is how he would be were he to be drunk.

"… But… I came all the way here Kyle!" I was starting to sound like Cartman with my whiny voice.

"Then…" he looked at me from under his eyelashes, "Stay until you talk."

Oh god, was he flirting now? Note to self: do not wake Kyle up in the middle of the night for a serious conversation.

He pulled me weakly onto his bed and giggled some more. He started pulling at my hoodie as if to tug it off; which he apparently did.

"Kyle stop! I'm not wearing anything underneath it!" I hissed out in my last attempt to safely exit his bedroom.

But he seemed quite unconcerned by the fact, successfully pulling it over my head. He pushed the covers back as he pushed me into a lying position. He pressed a sloppy kiss to my forehead and practically collapsed over me.

"You… Gotta 'leep Kenny…" he barely finished saying my name as he fell asleep on top of me.

The fabric of his pyjamas was pleasantly cool against my heated skin. The slow even rise and fall of his chest was lulling me into much needed sleep.

It drew to me then that I had forgotten all my thoughts of unworthiness and self-loathing.

He always seemed to have that effect on me. Made me happy.

I wrapped my arms around his sleeping form and closed my eyes. Whatever it was I wanted to tell him, it could wait a few hours.

**Do not own South Park.**

**Your reviews are much too kind, thank you very much!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_There is no such thing _

_As not belonging somewhere,_

_Only denial_

We had woken up to the unusual sound of pattering against the window. It had been the first rain storm I had experienced in mid-November.

The air had been thick with the sense of unknown and mystery. The storm seemed to have a cooling effect on every citizen of South Park. Kyle's mom hadn't even said anything about my staying the night with no warning what so ever. Usually she would have popped a blood vessel over Kyle's 'insubordination'.

Secretly, I've always loved rainy days. It had remained a secret because I hated the fact that I didn't know why I loved them.

So we sat in his room, backs against the side of his bed, eyes staring out the window, fingers interlaced and sharing a single set of earphones.

I had been stalling the discussion I had so desperately wanted to have last night and was just basking in the calming aura of the storm.

"Thank you."

He hummed back as if to ask what it was I was going on about.

"I don't know why you care about me, but thank you."

My voice had broken on the 'me' and my eyes had slid closed as I had said it. It was always difficult to face the truth. In this case the truth had incontestably been that there was no way I could possibly deserve care from someone like him.

I was expecting the scene to collapse on itself as I faced this truth. But the only thing that changed was the tightening of his grip on my hand and the beats playing in our ears.

"Kenny. What are you talking about?"

He spoke quietly as if he too was afraid of the moment disintegrating back into nothingness.

"You're this incredible person and I'm just this… Waste of space."

I leaned my head back onto the mattress and breathed deeply. I was putting my foot down in unknown and mysterious territory just as the day called for. All I wished for was for things to not go back to what they were before this autumn.

"You're still not making sense."

He said so with forced light-heartedness but I knew him too well and recognised the dread in his voice.

"You've done so much for me. You made me happy again. And I can never give you anything back."

Feeling a little braver I opened up my eyes to stare at the ceiling. His grip on my hand kept getting tighter and tighter as I spoke.

"Kenny," he began with a sorrowful tone "Throughout the years you've always been by my side. You were there for me and I wasn't there for you up until recently. I want to be with you because I love you. And you don't need to force yourself or furnish efforts to repay me; because you've always made me happy."

There was a pause in his monologue as I blinked disbelievingly up at the ceiling.

"I want you to keep being by my side… _Forever_."

As I lifted my head back up he turned his away from the window and towards me. We locked intense gazes as if to assure each other that we were being as honest as could be.

He inclined his head and I inclined mine as we met in a passionate kiss. My right hand, which had been fiddling with the string of my hoodie, sought out his and now each one of my hands were holding one of his. My left ear listened to acoustic guitar as my right ear listened to the pitter-patter of the rain, my body was listening to his heartbeat.

He pulled away and continued to look at me penetratingly. Not wanting to break the contact of our interlocked hands he leaned his cheek towards mine to wipe at the tears I didn't know had fallen.

I choked out what was truly on my heart, "I felt so isolated," fighting the tears back I continued unevenly "Y-You make me feel complete."

I hid my face into his shoulder as true tears of pain made their way down my face, relenting in the feelings that had dominated my teenage years. The isolation, the loneliness, the seclusion, the longing.

"You didn't know, but your place was always here next to me. You always belonged and always will."

His voice was surprisingly steady; he didn't usually cope well in emotional situations, true to his boyish ways. But this was much too important for the both of us for him to treat it casually. I continued sobbing louder and louder as I found the new feelings of relief, belonging and love.

We kept our fingers intertwined for the entire time of my mini breakdown and when I finally met his eyes again it was with gratefulness and adoration. I was surprised to see the same emotion reflect in his eyes.

"From now on, there will always be someone waiting for you to revive and that will notice and miss you when you're gone."

We kissed again but this time with light-heartedness and happiness. There was a break in the song that was playing and then lyrics rung out that made me smile into the kiss.

_This is fact not fiction_

_For the first time in years_

I couldn't agree more. I felt more real than I had in years.

**Don't own South Park.**

**Okay haha this is the end :)**

**The song is A Lack of Color by Death Cab for Cutie which actually inspired this story.**

**I will have a new K2 story out in no time.**

**But for this one, that is all.**


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